In the midst of divorce, now, more than ever, my children look to me. "They look to me to see how merciful and generous I am in good times. They look to me to see how strong and faithful I am in bad times. They watch, they listen, and they model. Years from now I want my children to remember a childhood lived well, with a mother who was loving, consistent, devoted, funny, disciplined, playful, and totally present and emotionally available."(Kristin Armstrong)
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Sweet Dreams
In a dream this morning I was visiting with a long lost cousin whom I'll call Susan. I always liked, admired, and feared Susan((feared)for her harsh judgment of me). In the dream, we sat together at a park, musing over our transformations into mothers. Aside from genetic material, I believe loving our children is all that might link us.
I cautiously inquired if it felt strange to love each of our children so differently and not know specifically why. Is it gender, birth order, personality, circumstances...
An unexpected sense of tenderness moved me when Susan testified that: "Children are gifts because they save us from ourselves by demanding that we change to accommodate our distinctly sacred role as Mommy. They teach us new and better ways of being. From each of them we will learn unique lessons about ourselves." I welcomed this humble and endearing confession by someone whom I otherwise suspected incapable of contemplating her own evolution.
I enjoyed the intimate dialog with a family member whom in real life I will probably never actually connect. What I appreciate equally is that I have the good fortune of a husband who today got up at 5:30 to care for Baby Bert and allowed me 2.5 hours of needed rest. It was this deep deep bonus sleep that lent itself to my unlikely but agreeable reunion with Susan.
The birth of our first son delivered me to motherhood. His arrival unleashed a genuine selflessness that is without bounds. I cannot think of any one quality for which I feel more proud or grateful. He has revealed the possibilities for who I get to be rather than who I have to be or will never be.
This appreciation for him is one I cannot know with our younger son, because I was already a mother when #2 came around.. That imbalance makes me a little uncomfortable. So, it was nice to bare this unguarded confession with someone who,in real life would likely not affirm or share it.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
It's so funny...when Max was born I wanted them to take him immediately to the nursery so I could see Jack. I was overwhelmed with longing to hold my first baby and be sure that nothing had changed between us. It's not that I didn't love Max, or wasn't in awe of how beautiful he was, or any of that, I just missed Jack so terribly.
ReplyDeleteFast forward 7 years (almost) and Max is my "baby". He is MY child and I cling to him because I know there won't be any more to follow. Jack is big and self-sufficient and doesn't need me so much. In many ways now, I feel closer to Max. He still wants to snuggle with Mommy and be where I am and go where I go. Jack talks about hunting and trucks and all manner of subjects that (if I'm honest), bore the Hell out of me. Now, with him, I look for opportunities, or little moments to reconnect and if I'm lucky, he'll slip into my bed after a bad dream and snuggle, or climb in the chair with me to watch a movie.
Don't feel guilty for treasuring one child in a different way from the other. I'm pretty sure it all comes back around.